


Trust Issues

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dom/Sub, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it happens, it’s after a bad day of getting beat up and winning a fight that feels more like a total failure. Clint needs to be put down more than anything after that, and Tony has his own share of dom needs. But Clint falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Issues

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt,
> 
> I would love to see a story where Clint is forced into a sub drop unintentionally by Tony, and the reactions/fall out of that - trust issues and what not/rebuilding the relationship.

When it happens, it’s after a bad day of getting beat up and winning a fight that feels more like a total failure. Natasha ends up with a broken kneecap, Cap needs fifty stiches down his back even _with_ his healing, Tony comes closer to death than he was at the New York Incident and ends up with a broken leg and a broken wrist, and Clint flatlines twice. Even Bruce and Thor are pretty bruised up at the end, and Coulson makes them all take a mandatory week off when Clint’s finally stable.

 

Clint needs to be put down more than _anything_ after that, and Tony has his own share of dom needs. So even though they’re aware sex with broken limbs and bruised lungs aren’t exactly the safest thing, they do it. Tony’s stroking Clint’s hair whispering _such a good boy, I love you so much, you’re being so good_ , and Clint is basking in the attention when it happens.

 

Tony’s thrusting into him a little too roughly, pulling on his hair a little too hard and his praises turn to _no, Clint,_ and Clint feels himself teetering. His safeword is on the tip of his tongue, but Clint makes an attempt to rectify it because he _knows_ Tony’s high strung from everything.

 

But then Tony bites, hard, into his neck, and while that would’ve been hot at any other time, it makes Clint whimper and makes his insides lurch unpleasantly. Combined with that and Tony abruptly shoving three fingers into him along with his dick, Clint whimpers out, “Red.”

 

But Tony doesn’t stop. At first, Clint thinks he doesn’t hear, so he repeats it, again and again, trying to shove Tony away with his sluggish sub-down strength, but Tony slaps him. Hard. And he keeps going.

 

And Clint falls.

 

\--

 

Steve is in the common floor, trying to soothe his jumpy nerves with some tea. Natasha took Thor and Bruce for a stroll in Central Park. His stitches pull a little when he shifts and he winces and wonders how he did it before. He also wonders how Natasha can deal with Thor in Central Park of all places with a broken kneecap. The thought of Bruce, at his nerve’s end because of the bad mission, being the only other one there doesn’t help.

 

He sips his tea and he’s trying to breathe deep when the elevator dings open and there’s a shuffle of feet. He looks up to find Clint, shirtless and squeezing his arms. Something about the way his arms are makes Steve frown and stand up, and when Steve gets closer he sees Clint’s eyes are dilated, wild, darting around until they come to find Steve.

 

And Steve realizes that Clint’s not _shirtless_ , he’s naked. “Clint.” He says, before rushing forward to grip Clint as he sways. “Clint, what’s wrong?”

 

Clint whimpers when Steve grips his shoulders, and Steve notices the dried blood from a deep bite mark at his shoulders, the blood trails between his thighs, and the bruises forming dark on his hips and the back of his neck. “He…help?” Clint tries, coughing lightly on the word.

 

 _Jesus Christ_ , Steve thinks before he scoops Clint into his arms and rushes to the elevator. “JARVIS, my floor, please. Where’s Tony?”

 

“ _In his room, sir. Asleep._ ”

 

Steve swallows thickly and he pulls Clint onto his bed, pulling the down blanket from his closet onto Clint’s shivering body. “Warm towel, please, JARVIS.” JARVIS complies in seconds, and Clint whimpers when Steve pats the blood down and tries to pull away. “It’s me, Clint. Listen to me. I know you’re scared, but listen to me. I’m going to take care of you. You got that? Nod if you understand.”

 

There’s a frantic whimper and a shake of the head, and Steve winces inside. He’s never dealt with a sub in a drop before, and he doesn’t even want to think about the fact that _Tony_ put Clint there. He pushes that thought to the back of his head. He can’t deal with it now. “Clint.” He says, as softly as he can. “It’s me, Steve. I’m not going to hurt you.” He hold his hand out and gently strokes Clint’s bruised cheek. Clint doesn’t pull away this time, just makes a noise that’s halfway between a choke and a sob. “I’m going to take care of you.”

 

It takes a while, but Clint nods, and he lets Steve hold him. Steve rocks him back and forth, slowly, until the tension in Clint’s muscles ease fraction by fraction until Clint falls limp against his arm. Steve disinfects the bite mark and hopes it won’t scar, and then tries to nudge Clint’s thighs open. “I’ll do it.” Clint says, his voice shaky.

 

“Clint.” Steve tries to go for worried instead of scolding, and Clint shakes his head against his chest. Steve relents but holds his arms protectively around Clint’s body.

 

After a few tense silent moments of Clint patting at between his legs, he says, “It wasn’t Tony’s fault.” It’s not what Steve expects to hear _at all_ , and when Clint tries to get up onto shaky legs, he tries to stop Clint. “Stop, Steve.” Clint says, his entire wobbling like a newborn deer. “It wasn’t Tony’s fault. He’s not going to remember when he wakes up. And you’re not going to talk about this to anyone else.” Clint’s body is on the verge of collapse, but he glares fiercely at Steve.

 

\--

 

Steve doesn’t tell anymore. He doesn’t tell Tony, or Natasha, or anyone else, and Tony seems to have no idea what happened. It makes Steve wonder if it’s happened before and Clint’s just kept his mouth shut, but Clint is different from normal, keeping a distance Steve wouldn’t have seen if he wasn’t looking for it.

 

It’s about a week or two of Clint being jumpy when they get a mission and Clint almost dies falling off a building. Clint falling off the building isn’t new – he does it all the time. Enough that Tony or Thor or sometimes even the Hulk is always hovering near Clint’s building to catch him when he falls. But when Tony catches him this time, Clint goes into blind panic and flails, making Tony drop him.

 

He plummets before Thor flies through and snatches him out of the air, inches before he hits the concrete. At the end of the battle, Natasha demands, “What was that.” Tony just stares at Clint, his brows furrowed minutely.

 

About three hours after their debriefing, Tony corners Steve. “Tell me what’s going on.” Steve tries to feign a look, but Tony pushes, “I’ve seen you look at him like you expect something to fall apart any moment. You _know_ what’s happening. What is it?”

 

Steve mumbles, “It’s not my place to say,” and runs away as fast as he can.

 

\--

 

A few days later, Clint is sipping coffee from a mug. When Steve walks in, he raises an eyebrow in greeting, then says, “Thanks for not telling Tony.”

 

 “You… heard?”

 

Clint snickers. “Yeah. I kinda figured by the way he was all fidgety around me, but he also told me. Kind of. He demanded, ‘How come Steve knows but I don’t?’. I just told him that it was an accident that you found out, that it wasn’t a big deal, and that he shouldn’t worry about it.”

 

Steve frowns. “Clint, you should talk to Tony about this. I understand that you… don’t want to make him feel bad, but this is a serious matter.”

 

Clint’s voice is tight when he responds, staring straight into the mug. “No. It _never_ happened.”

 

\--

 

Steve can see the tension building between Clint and Tony every single day. It gets to the point where Tony’s snapping at almost anything, and Clint’s lips are perpetually set in a thin line. Steve can tell that Clint hasn’t been allowing Tony to put him down, and the muscles in Clint’s back are always tense.

 

He doesn’t like the way this is going, so he decides to play his ultimatum. He talks to Natasha. “I was wondering,” she says, “when you’d come find me.”

 

“You _knew_?”

 

“That Clint dropped and came to you for help? I do intelligence work, too, Steve.” She raises an eyebrow. “Anyone in SHIELD with basic intelligence training would have been able to tell. I didn’t want to intrude on the trust you had with Clint, I didn’t want to intrude on his privacy, or Tony’s, or yours.” She nods in his direction. “You did good, not talking to Tony about it. Clint would have lost his trust in you completely. Even if you only meant good for him.”

 

Steve winces. “I need to do something. At this rate, he’s going to drop again, especially since his last down was…. Less than desirable.”

 

Natasha hums low in her throat and then sighs, rubbing her temple. “This would be easier if Clint wasn’t such a stubborn little…” She trails off, and then rubs her temple again. “Maybe you can talk to him and then convince him to let you tell Tony. Or the three of you can have a talk together, since you were dragged into the entire thing when you had to pull Clint back up.” She looks sternly at him – it’s the same look he’s seen on her when she’s determined to get her way. “In _fact_ , I’ll go talk to him and _make_ the three of you talk together.”

 

Before he can stop her, she’s a whirlwind of red, swirling away.

 

\--

 

A few hours later, a grumbling Clint shows up at his floor with Natasha, who looks like an incredibly satisfied cat. “Uh.. Hey, Clint? Natasha?”

 

Clint grumbles, “You’re really bad at pretending you have no idea what’s going on, so stop it, Cap.” He rubs his eyes. “I’m not mad at you.” He amends, a little less grumpily. “I’m just cranky because I haven’t had sex in way too long.” He sighs, rubs his forehead, and flops down on Steve’s bed. “So how are we doing this?”

 

Natasha grins like a feral lion. “We’re going to approach this the Tony way. Blunt and to the point.”

 

\--

 

Which was how, Steve thinks, he finds himself sitting in Tony’s lab, across from Clint and Tony. (Natasha had thought that’d be the better idea so Tony didn’t feel like he was being ganged up on.) Tony eyes them suspiciously, and then sighs. “All right, so talk.”

 

Clint’s lips are set in a stubborn line that look like they’re going to refuse to open, so Steve does instead. “A few weeks ago, I was in the living room when Clint stumbled into it. He wasn’t… wearing anything.” He sees Tony’s back stiffen, but Clint’s already placed a hand over Tony’s. “He… uh.” Steve can’t really get himself to say _he dropped_ , but Clint doesn’t look like he’s going to say it, either, so he clears his throat. “He wasn’t himself, Tony. You dropped him.”

 

It’s like the air between them suddenly dropped to freezing. Tony stiffens noticeably, his face slack with shock. After a tense silence, his eyes turn to Clint. “Clint.” He says, and Clint squeezes his hand. “Clint.” Tony tries again, but he shakes his head instead, and says, “Clint,” a third time.

 

Clint stays quiet, rubbing his thumb on Tony’s wrist. “It’s okay,” he finally says. “It’s okay.”

 

“It’s _not_ okay.” Tony says, his voice tight. “I… I can’t believe…” He closes his eyes and then twists his hands so that he’s gripping Clint’s hand. “I’m so sorry.” He glances up at Steve, uncharacteristically defeated. “You, too. I’m sorry.”

 

Clint sighs. “I didn’t want to talk to you because I _knew_ you’d be like this.” He growls, gripping Clint’s hand, and Clint pats his wrist. “Listen, Tony. I love you. A lot. And I don’t want something like one mistake getting in the way. I know you aren’t like that. You’ve been the best dom for me for two years and counting, now. Both of us were tired, and you were on edge because you thought your sub died. I honestly don’t blame you for anything that happened. I was… scared of dropping. But I wasn’t scared of you.”

 

It’s the most heartfelt Steve has heard Clint _ever_ , and he feels mortified that he’s there for such a private conversation. Tony glances at him, and chuckles defeatedly before he brings Clint’s hand to his cheek and holds it there. “We’re scaring Steve by being all mushy.” Before Steve can say anything in his defense, he says, “Steve. I’m… I can’t tell you how happy I am that you were there for him.”

 

Steve doesn’t know what to say, but Clint offers him a hesitant grin and Tony sounds more sincere than he’s ever done, and he can’t help but shuffle his feet. “I… I think you guys are good for each other,” he blurts, and Clint laughs. He smiles, a little embarrassedly, and Tony laughs good-naturedly.

 

“Never change, Cap.” Clint says, and Steve wonders if that’s a reference that he doesn’t get.

 

\--

 

Clint and Tony’s relationship gets better, but it doesn’t fully repair. Even though they look like they’re back to their usual relationship, Steve realizes Clint hasn’t gone down yet. The tenseness in his shoulders is still present, and now that Steve’s looking for the signs, he can see everything. Tony’s not doing so well on his part either – the thought nags at him, Steve knows. _I hurt my sub._

 

 

But the worst doesn’t happen until a week later. Steve is sleeping, and he’s roused by JARVIS. “ _Sir, Mr. Stark is requesting your immediate presence_.”

 

Steve’s heart sinks with every step he takes to Tony’s floor. He expects the worst, and when he gets there, Tony is curled around Clint, holding his cheek, whispering something Steve can’t hear, and when Steve nears, he sees Clint shaking so bad he’s making Tony’s hand shake. Tony swallows visibly when he sees Steve. “He’s… I got him out of it.” Tony says, his voice breaking. Clint is anything _but_ okay, shaking badly and sweating profusely. “We need to change the sheets,” Tony says. “They’re soaked from his sweat.”

 

Steve tries to pick Clint up, but Clint lets out a loud whimper in his sleep. Tony pushes his arms around Clint and hauls Clint up. Steve yanks the damp sheets off quickly, but by the time Tony tucks Clint back under the thick comforters, Clint is shaking so badly from a chill he can’t shake off.

 

“He dropped?” Steve asks, quietly, as Tony slides under the comforter to wrap himself around Clint.

 

“Yeah.” Tony says, his eyes sliding shut. “I – I didn’t think I could get him back up, but I did it. Sorry I got you out of bed.” He’s distracted, with good reason, and Steve sit on the edge of the bed. Clint’s shaking has lessened a bit, but he’s whimpering every now and then. Tony strokes a hand through his sweat-soaked hair every time Clint whimpers, whispering things Steve can’t quite catch. “Do you think you can… there’s a spare bed right outside.”

 

Steve nods. “I know where it is.” He stands. “Tony, are _you_ all right?” He knows a failed down can also badly knock a dom down. He’s seen doms go into a drop, and it wasn’t pretty.

 

But Tony nods. He looks tired, but he also doesn’t look like he’s losing it, so Steve lets himself head to the spare bed and collapses into it.

 

\--

 

Clint doesn’t wake up the next day. He sometimes fades into a fevered daze but falls back into uncomfortable sleep, and it’s only at about 3AM the next day that Clint gets coherent enough to say, “It wasn’t this bad last time.”

 

Tony springs to action immediately, but Clint is already pushing himself up. “God damn it,” he says, but lets Tony drop on the floor before him to examine him. Clint manages a wry smile. “This is different.”

 

Tony grins back. “Yeah, usually you on your knees in front of me.” He reaches up, the humor gone from him in moments and replaced back by worry. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I’m okay. A little shaken. But okay.” Clint tries to stand. Tony lets him, and catches his wrists to steady him when he wobbles. “Maybe bed.” Clint amends, and Tony chuckles softly. “Hey, Cap.”

 

Steve smiles and says nothing, watches Tony hover. It’s unnecessary, as Clint’s physically so healthy that he’s not physically hurt by a drop like some subs are, but he says nothing about it because there’s absolutely nothing wrong with a dom fawning over his sub.

 

Clint recovers (as best as he can) in a matter of an hour, and he’s back in the training room, swiftly working through punching bags. Tony offers to spar with him, and he does. Not that it’s a fair match, because even though Tony’s Clint’s dom, Clint is _Clint_ , the best SHIELD has to offer, and Tony goes down in a matter of seconds.

 

But they’re laughing, and Clint and Tony look so _relaxed_ , all the tension slipped away from their shoulders, and Natasha’s smiling, so Steve does, too.

 

\--

 

Steve should have known that it was the calm before the storm. He blames himself for it, mostly because he should have known that Clint, with two drops and absolutely no downs for months, should have been resting back in the tower, not going out with them on sniper duty.

 

Clint falls, which, in itself, isn’t rare. Clint falls from his perch all the time. Him being unconscious when caught (by Thor this time) wasn’t rare either, because usually Clint wouldn’t have fallen off if he was conscious, or the blast that kicked him off the perch would have knocked him unconscious.

 

It’s nothing they’d seen before, though, when Clint doesn’t wake up in the first few hours. At first, neither Tony nor Bruce are that concerned about it, but then hours turns into a full day, which turns into two. Bruce starts getting a worry crease between his eyebrows at the start of day 2, and Tony looks jittery. “This isn’t normal, is it?” Steve asks, quietly, and Bruce just frowns and starts setting up monitors.

 

Exactly 38 minutes later, Bruce announces quietly, “Clint’s dropped. It was the physical act of falling that did it, I think. He was – he was cutting it close, before that.”

 

“ _Actually_ falling can drop a sub?” Natasha asks, quietly, keeping a steady eye on Tony, who’s gone dangerously pale.

 

Bruce nods. “It’s happened before. They don’t call it a _drop_ for no reason. Dropped subs come back out of it saying that they felt like they had physically dropped. The sensation is similar enough that subs that haven’t been down for a while can drop from it. And Clint…”

 

Clint hasn’t been put down in a long time. Has dropped twice. Steve glances at Tony, who looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. Or a dom drop. Not good, Steve thinks, and grips Tony’s arm. “Tony.” He says, softly. “I’m sorry. But… don’t.” He hopes his voice is firm enough.

 

Tony looks at him, his eyes glazed. He then takes a moment, shakes his head, and shivers. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

 

\--

 

Tony isn’t _good_ , can’t be while all of them are trying to figure out how to get Clint back out. “It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before.” Bruce says. “A dropped sub isn’t fully conscious, granted, but still conscious. You can’t be in a drop and not be conscious, because the drop is defined by the emotions you feel. That’s why doms that can’t get their subs back up from a drop suggest that they get the sub asleep as fast as possible. It’s the easiest way to get a sub out of a drop. I’ve never heard of an unconscious drop. But his brain activity levels… They’re definitely a drop.”

They spend the next 24 hours trying to get him out of the drop, and Steve learns all the reasons why a drop is bad, even if the sub isn’t conscious to feel the effects of it. The worst ones are that his heartbeat is slow, irregular, stuttered, and that Clint’s barely breathing. His body temperature drops just to the limits of hypothermia, but Clint is sweating his droves, shaking nonstop.

 

Tony is silent throughout the entire ordeal. He never once leaves Clint’s side, mostly because the one time Tony lets go of Clint’s hand, Clint’s condition drops. “He knows you are here.” Thor says, after they settle down from their panic. “ _He_ trusts you. So the problem must be that you cannot trust yourself.”

 

Thor is weirdly philosophical at times. Steve thinks this may be one, and apparently so does Natasha. “He’s right. That may be why he dropped the second time you guys tried.” She quells Bruce’s surprised look with a hand (of course Natasha knew something only Steve and Tony and Clint had been present for). “Not now, Doc. But trust _is_ one of the emotions that a sub is tuned to during a down.”

Bruce looks like he wants to ask a million questions, probably starting with _when did these drops happen_ , but he sighs and says instead, “She’s right. There were studies done proving that during a down, there is one thing that a sub is incredibly fine-tuned to, and that’s trust. It would make sense, Tony. If you’re not trusting yourself to put him down right, he can pick up on that, and it’ll make the entire process go haywire.”

 

Tony looks at Clint’s hand, gripped in his, and says nothing.

 

\--

 

The next hour is hectic, with Bruce demanding to know what happened. Natasha tells him the story of two drops, with Steve adding details as best as he can. Thor seems disturbed and confused by everything that’s going on, and that’s when Tony suddenly shoots up from his seat. Steve looks, the conversation pauses, and he sees Tony bent low over Clint. “Hey.” He hears Tony say. “Keep your eyes on me, Clint.”

 

Bruce flies quietly to the monitors, scanning it with wide eyes. Tony glances at him for a quick second, they share a nod, and Natasha quietly shuffles over to Bruce. Steve stays rooted where he is, as does Thor. Tony is talking quietly to Clint, a mix of _do this for me, Clint_ and _you’re such a good boy_. They’re easy, like _keep your eyes open for me_ , _count to 10_ , and other random orders, but for every one Clint gets a _you’re so good_ , or a _that’s right, you’re doing so good_ , and a sub thrives on praise. None of them leave the room, just quietly standing where they are even when Tony’s free hand disappears under the sheets and the order is _spread your legs for me, baby_.

 

There’s really no question what Tony’s hands are doing under the sheets, especially from the way Clint gasps and trembles, but Tony says nothing when they don’t leave. “Stay quiet, Clint. Your eyes on me.” Tony says, and Clint’s whimpers shut down. “So good. You’re being such a good boy.” Tony tells Clint, and Steve sees Clint’s hand tighten a bit around Tony’s.

 

Clint tenses for a moment before he collapses against Tony’s chest. He’s breathing hard, but Tony’s apparently not done because the process continues for a lot longer, with Clint keeping silent through the entire thing, body tensing with orgasm when he hits his peak and then slumping against Tony.

 

There’s a murmured, “Red”, and Tony pulls himself back. Clint’s eyes are open noticeably now, and Tony wipes his hand on the sheets, balls them up and tosses it somewhere, and pulls a clean one across Clint’s lap. It’s a few more moments of tense silence after that, until Clint says, “Hungry.”

 

Natasha starts laughing first, and then Thor, and then Bruce, and then Steve, then Tony, and then Clint says, “I’m _serious_ ,” even though he’s laughing. Thor goes down with Steve to get some food for Clint, but before he slips into the elevator, Steve catches Clint and Tony, smiling against each other.


End file.
